The Defiant Wife (The Three Mrs #2) - Jess Michaels Page 0,62

you to leave it be.”

Her lips parted and he saw…pity in her eyes. He supposed he ought to become accustomed to such an expression. Anyone who looked at him anymore either did so with pity or contempt. Except Phillipa. And now he’d lost her.

“I understand why you don’t wish to speak to me about it,” Abigail said, and her tone was gentle, as if she were speaking to a child not much older than Kenley. “Rhys, you are tormenting yourself over Phillipa and everything else. It cannot be healthy to hold all that inside and try to pretend you are strong enough to carry it by yourself.”

“Well, the person I would discuss it with just left me here in the parlor, didn’t she?” he said, throwing up his hands. “So what would you have me do, Abigail? Open a vein in the park across the street so the world can see me bleed?”

“Of course not.” She edged closer. “I cannot believe I’m about to suggest this, considering he is the most infuriating man in London—nay, the entire country—but won’t you consider going to the Duke of Gilmore?”

Rhys shut his eyes. “Gilmore is not in Town.”

“He returns tomorrow morning, though,” Abigail said. “And he is your friend, Rhys. You need one of those.”

Rhys looked at her and pondered asking her why she knew the comings and goings of Gilmore, a man she had said more than once that she despised. But he was too tired to do so. And she wasn’t wrong that he needed to pour himself out to someone who cared. Someone who wouldn’t judge.

Much.

Abigail stepped closer yet again. “I…I meddled today, thinking it would be harmless, but I can see that it wasn’t. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “It is I who should be sorry. I am not in good spirits, but you don’t deserve my ire.”

“No, a man dead in the grave deserves it,” Abigail said with a shrug. “But since none of us can make him pay more for his crimes than he already is, we must be a bit more understanding with each other. If you trespassed, you are certainly forgiven.”

“Thank you,” he said, and meant it. “Now I must go. I can’t be here any longer.”

She stepped aside to allow him to depart, and he did so with just a wave goodbye to her. He burst from her home and crossed the street for the short walk across the park, then a few streets more to his home.

But with every step, his body, mind and heart felt all the heavier. And all that he’d lost thanks to Erasmus became so much harder to accept.

Pippa was still in a fog when she trudged down the stairs for supper later that night. She hadn’t wanted to join Abigail, but to stay in Kenley’s room, watching over him as if the hounds of hell were about to descend at any moment.

No not hounds. The child’s mother. A woman who had every right to him, as Pippa didn’t. A woman who could also be a threat to the boy. So what was right? What was best?

She shook her head. She would have stayed at his side, watching him play, watching him sleep, but the invitation from Abigail had not seemed to be one she could refuse. She entered the dining room and found that Abigail was not there, but Celeste was.

“Good evening,” Pippa said as she crossed the room to her. “I didn’t expect you tonight.”

“Abigail called for me to join you,” Celeste said as she kissed her cheek. When she pulled away, Pippa felt her concerned gaze. “How are you?”

“Abigail has been talking,” Pippa said with a sigh.

Abigail had seen her hasty retreat from Rhys earlier in the day, of course, but she had never said a word about it to Pippa. In fact, her friend had left her alone all afternoon, until the demands to be joined for supper. Pippa had thought she’d escaped the scrutiny, but it appeared Abigail was only waiting for back up.

“Only because we’re worried about you.” They turned together as Abigail entered the room. She crossed to take Pippa’s hand and gave it a brief, comforting squeeze. “Only because I care.”

As Abigail released her, Pippa sank into her place at the table and the others joined her. She sighed again. “I realize your interference is kindly meant. I do. But there is nothing anyone can do, and certainly you both have other things to do. Celeste, you are mere weeks into